


On Morning Wood, Wet Dreams and Realizations.

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Crack, M/M, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Derek decided that wiggling his way out of that wasn't gonna happen mostly cause: was it awkward? <i>Yes. </i>Was it unbearably awkward? Not yet. It'd probably get real awkward real fast if he ended up accidentally rubbing the one-eyed snake against Stiles, though, so avoiding any kind of mostly unwanted, poorly timed friction was the best idea yet."</p><p>The morning Derek realized he might want Stiles a little more than he thought he did. </p><p>(Derek POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Morning Wood, Wet Dreams and Realizations.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever posted anything for this fandom - or any fandom, for that matter. There's a bit of a chance that this might suck, which, if it does, I guess I'm so sorry? Yeah.

Sighing, Derek tried to sneak his way out of Stiles's - who was snoring loudly next to him, his legs intertwined with Derek's and one of his arms thrown lazily across Derek's chest - bed. He really needed to pee, but because apparently it was against the Laws of the Universe to just walk out of bed peacefully on a Sunday morning, moving to the side so he could try to slip out Stile's hold only caused Stiles to move with him, throwing now half of his body over Derek's in way that made him feel like he was being attacked by an angry Kraken from a Pirates of the Caribben movie - which was the reason he ended up in bed with Stiles, in the first place.  
  
After having Stiles gape at him for what felt like an hour because "You've never watched Pirates of the Caribbean-- _What is wrong with you?_ ", Derek decided that agreeing to watch it with the boy was far easier and less emotionally draining than explaining why never having watched that goddamn movie didn't even make top 100 on the extensive-ass list of Things That Are Wrong With Derek Hale. And now here he was, where they both had fallen asleep almost two hours into the third movie - he vaguely remembers a very loud speech about sweating brows or something.

He decided that he wasn't gonna over-analyze sleeping that close to Stiles, though, mostly 'cause he figured that was a bro thing. I mean, it's not like Derek actually had that many friends to have sleepovers with, but Stiles and Scott seemed to do that often enough that it was probably considered a bro thing.

He tried wiggling a bit to see if Stiles would move - spoiler alert: he didn't - but abruptly stopped when he felt something big and hard touching his thigh and-- _oh_. Well, that was unfortunate, to say the least. Again choosing not to stress over it - he'd been a teenager once, woodies were just a thing that happened without any kind of _please-move-before-you-accidentally-make-someone-uncomfortable_ signs -, Derek decided that wiggling his way out of that wasn't gonna happen mostly cause: was it awkward? _Yes._ Was it unbearably awkward? Not yet. It'd probably get real awkward real fast if he ended up accidentally rubbing the one-eyed snake against Stiles, though, so avoiding any kind of mostly unwanted, poorly timed friction was the best idea yet.

Of course, because apparently the universe couldn't seem to stop fucking with his life, that was the moment Stiles chose to move, tucking his head on the curve of Derek's neck and puffing hot breaths against his skin. _Motherfuck_ \-- Stiles rutted against his thigh once, twice and then _he just didn't stop_. It was safe to say that there was nothing Derek wanted more than to throw Stiles across the room and flee; honest to god run away to another country so he'd never have to look this jailbait asshole in the eye again.

It wasn't like he wasn't aware that Stiles was attractive, objectively speaking. With his ridiculously full lips and his mouth that was constantly open - " _mouth breather, dude, what can you do_ " -, his long skinny fingers, his broad shoulders and his big brown eyes. It's just that he was pretty good at ignoring the way he wanted to touch Stiles sometimes. Another thing Derek was pretty good at: denial. Denial was the way to go, here.

After doing his best not to think of the way Stiles was moving, he willed his own boner - because, yeah, _that_ happened - away by thinking of as many gross things as humanly possible. Thank god for Jackson and the black goo.

" _Stiles,_ " He tried, but the boy didn't stop moving. Goddammit. "Stiles, wake up."

Nothing.

"Stiles, I swear to god--" Still nothing.  
  
"STILES, WAKE THE FUCK UP" At that, Stiles woke up.

The scare was enough for him to fall off the bed, scrambling to his feet like a drunk hobo less than one second later and staring at Derek with wide eyes and a shocked expression. Derek was pretty sure he'd never seen Stiles look this red. He was also considerably sure that Stiles was about to start babbling apologies and whatever the fuck so he just-- no, ok. He needed to pee. And to forget that this had ever happened cause otherwise he'd end up throwing Stiles back in bed and that was just--

"I need to pee," Derek says, then. "And when I come back we're both gonna pretend this never happened."

Stiles nodded slowly, still looking red and baffled and with such a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face that Derek almost laughed. Laughed. Derek Hale, almost laughed.  
  
He was so screwed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my first language so if there's any grammar mistake that makes you cringe i'd really like you guys to tell me so i can correct it and learn for future reference! thanks!


End file.
